


October We Were Wild

by flightspath



Series: California [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Road Trips, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, ok very brief finger sucking but it's important to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27147341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightspath/pseuds/flightspath
Summary: “You’re driving me crazy,” Derek insists. “Let me get my tongue inside you.”“Whoareyou right now?”“I’m me,” he says. “And you’re you.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: California [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981603
Comments: 12
Kudos: 177





	October We Were Wild

**Author's Note:**

> I'd suggest reading 'Let Me Know' first for maximum enjoyment. This picks up right at the end of that story.
> 
> LMK is more smutty and this is more... tender? (Does this count as tender? Please weigh in.)
> 
> Anyway it's my birthday and I love Texas and light BDSM, alright go team!

They’re lying in bed, staring into each other’s eyes. Stiles traces Derek’s cheekbones with one finger.

“What are you like normally?” Stiles asks, and that’s when Derek realizes that he and Stiles aren’t together _normally_. Not outside this hazy dream of a summer. Stiles says it like-- like there’s a countdown to normal. Like they won’t stay together after.

After.

Derek hates that, so he just says, “I don’t know, I don’t think I’m like anything.”

He tilts his face up to capture Stiles’ fingers and suck the tips of them gently into his mouth. He kisses them, wet and loving, and then sucks hard on Stiles’ middle finger, scraping his teeth over the knuckle.

Eventually, he says, ‘I wasn’t anything before.” 

The next morning Stiles asks to come with him, and Derek thinks he could forget every second of his life up until now.

\-----

They spend fall on the road.

They drive down I-5 and hang a left on I-10, and then it’s October and they’re in Joshua Tree looking at maps of New Mexico, the Turquoise Trail, Austin, on and on and on. Cora’s getting married in Florida on Halloween-- “Everyone in my family is a gay idiot, basically”-- and the thing they don’t talk about is that Stiles dropped out of grad school and Derek doesn’t have a job, so they’re just two guys on the road having increasingly intimate sex.

Or, they do talk about it. Stiles says, “What the fuck are we doing with our lives?” and Derek says, “You’re realizing academia’s a sham,” and then Stiles says, “ _Fuck,_ ” and Derek agrees and they stare out at the desert for a while. 

\-----

Marfa’s cold and clear and harsh, and the air smells like nowhere else Derek’s ever been. They stay for four days and just fuck and walk around and fuck some more. Derek’s insatiable, possessive, humping in his sleep and waking up hard as a rock from dreams about Stiles: his eyebrows, his cock, Derek’s cum on the small of his back. He fucks Stiles’ mouth, slow and intense; he puts his fist in Stiles’ ass and listens to him beg. 

The last night, they drink one beer at a local spot and then Stiles looks sideways at Derek, does a double take when he sees his face. 

“Are you serious right now?” he laughs. “We got here 10 minutes ago.”

“I’m serious right now,” Derek confirms. He leans in close, rubs his hand up Stiles’ thigh. “Let me take you back to the room.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes but he’s smiling and flattered. He nudges Derek with his leg. “I’m having a drink,” he argues, just to argue. Derek shakes his head.

“I should be eating you out,” he says in a low voice, rumbling into Stiles’ ear. He glances over at the bartender and confirms there’s no one within earshot. “I should take you home and get your ass in the air, lick your hole until you come.”

Stiles closes his eyes and swallows audibly. “Jesus, Derek.” 

“You’re driving me crazy,” Derek insists. “Let me get my tongue inside you.”

“Who _are_ you right now?” 

“I’m me,” he says. “And you’re you.”

He’s running his fingers up inseam of Stiles’ jeans when Stiles slaps a twenty on the bar and grabs his hand. “Let’s go.”

\-----

“I’m fucking obsessed with you,” Derek says in Houston, just as he’s fucking Stiles so hard his knees are pressed against his own chest, and they kiss and fuck and moan until Stiles is so tired he can’t come. Derek does, though, and then he does again, pressing into Stiles even as his eyes close.

“Feels good,” Stiles murmurs, the way he does before he nods off. “You can keep going,” he says, “keep going.”

Derek loves this, loves Stiles sleepy and pliant and meek. Loves him submissive and mild, permissive and soft. He can feel it when Stiles starts to drop, not totally asleep but relaxed and effortless. His hands are around Derek’s neck, but his grip starts to loosen.

It makes Derek feel wild and strong, like an animal. Like a beast taking this soft body-- his soft body, his person, this gentle space. He thinks about it as he fucks Stiles deeply, feels how hard he is inside the wet slide of Stiles’ ass, feels how Stiles is murmuring little moans and sleepy sounds of pleasure into the night. 

“Just a little more,” Derek whispers, and saying it pushes him close to the edge. He keeps his body low, right on top of Stiles, pushing inside him with rhythmic slaps. “I’m almost there, baby, I’m so close,” he says, and then he comes inside Stiles for a long time, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Stiles is half awake, maybe, petting Derek’s neck unconsciously as they untangle. Derek looks down at him, thinks about how his cum is inside Stiles’ body, and then holds him as completely as he can: all around him, all night.

\-----

They finally roll into Destin and meet Cora and her fiancé Anna in front of a big hotel. “This city is a shithole,” Derek says, and then he pulls Cora to his chest and hugs her tight. The show of affection makes Anna cry.

That night is the rehearsal, and the next day is the wedding, and by the third day Stiles and Derek are exhausted. They see the brides off and then order room service and stay in with a bottle of wine.

“I used to watch you, you know. Back at the house.”

Stiles is kneeling at Derek’s feet, letting Derek play with his hair. He settles in like this sometimes, when he’s tired or needy and Derek’s sitting in a chair or on a couch. He likes to lean his head on Derek’s thigh and stroke his calves, rub his hands over his crotch.

“I know,” Derek says, and he smiles at the memory. How far away it feels, how little he knew Stiles then. How he tore down an entire wall in a house in California just to find an excuse to stay close.

Stiles looks up at him and he’s smiling just like Derek. Derek says, “I used to watch you, too.”


End file.
